Letters
by EverythingHappensEventually
Summary: Back from going their seperate ways, he sits and thinks - at the reflecting pool, by the coffee cart. Waiting for her to show. Waiting to give her the years worth of regret, love, and heartache he has poured into a series of letters.
1. Letters

_**BB season 6, No Hannah. 1 year.**_

_**Sorry I have been away for so long. Here is a brief little something for you, let me know if you would like me to continue. **_

_**xxxxx**_

_**He sat by the reflecting pool, at the coffee cart.**_

He thought about Afghanistan.  
About the lives he took, and the lives he witnessed taken.

He thought about Parker, and the days he missed playing football. Missed experiences, lost time.

He regretted leaving.  
The second his hand left hers he was full of regret.  
His heart sunk when she looked back at him, and although he read uncertainty within her eyes, he turned away and left. He had regretted that action for 12 months.  
He told himself, to lessen the pain, that he couldn't ask her for anything more. That this was what was best, for both of them.

And then weeks passed, then months without hearing from her.

He worried for her safety.  
He worried that she would find love in Indonesia, and then he felt sick for thinking such things.  
He wanted her to be happy.  
He feared that maybe, she was unhappy. And then he feared that she was completely happy, without him.  
He feared her forgetting him.

He never questioned forgetting her.

He wrote her, everyday.  
The letters he held now in his hands, creased and dirty from months of weathering.  
He sealed them all, but never sent them.  
He realized, once he had licked the first envelope shut, that he had never even asked for an address.  
He wondered if she wrote him.  
If she did, he never recieved anything.  
He held onto the ignorant hope that stuff like that gets lost all the time, especially when travelling so far.  
He wondered if she thought of him the way he thought of her, a feeling as if his heart was thrown into his throat, and sat there uncomfortably for the year, unable to leave him but too large to swallow.

He wondered what was taking so long.

He thought about her laugh.  
The way she would throw her head back and laugh without apprehension when something amused her.  
He remembered it as the most vulnerable, beautiful, and open aspect of her he had the pleasure of witnessing, and on some occassions, causing.

He wondered if she was leaving her apartment now,  
followed by the scent of sweet lavender and another inexplicable scent that he could only associate with her.

He wondered if they would go get coffee, a plate of french fries between them.  
He considered the fact that he couldn't remember if she used ketchup or not.

His brow furrowed at this, his features aged by the desert sun and stress of the past year.  
He tensed, and questioned if they had grown apart.  
Not just this past year, but before.  
Before Afghanistan and Maluku.  
Somewhere between the night in front of the Hoover and the day they said goodbye at the airport, something had shifted.

He was determined to make things right.

He wondered if she would read his letters.  
He would give them to her, of course, they were hers.  
Some just spoke of his day, but others were much more emotional.  
He felt as if they physically held more weight than the others.  
But ultimately, he was unsure if she would notice, or if she would even want to read what they said.

Through all this, hours had passed.  
The sun was setting, and he became aware when his hands grew colder in the evening air,  
and looking down at the creased, dirty envelopes that held a years worth of regret, love, and heartache - he felt foolish.

He had considered everything about her.  
Except, the possibility of her not showing never crossed his mind.  
He never doubted that she would meet him here, a year later - just as promised.  
That is, until,  
she didn't.

_**xxxxxxx**_

**EverythingHappensEventually**

Let me know what you think, I look forward to reading your comments! 


	2. The Jeffersonian

_**Part Two**_

**The Jeffersonian**

xxxxx

The next morning he walked through the Jeffersonian towards her office.  
He didn't know what he was going to say to her.  
Part of him wanted to ignore it. He wanted to ignore the fact that for the last twelve months, for the last five hundred twenty five thousand and six hundred minutes she was always on his mind.  
He wanted to forget that she didn't show, and forgive that she broke their promise.  
He wanted to just give her a "Hiya, Bones!" and introduce a new case.

More of him wanted to be angry.  
To raise his voice and ask her why she didn't come see him.  
That he thought they were closer than that.  
That he wanted to push through this distance that had surface between them and force things back to the way they **were**.  
Nothing really had to change.  
He wanted so badly to have a drink with her after a case, pie and french fries at the diner, bickering in the car and hot blooded air guitar.

But the most of him wanted to be furious.  
He wanted to yell at her, to make her hear his feelings.  
To understand them this time. To really hear them.  
He wanted to kiss her passionately, almost violently, telling her that after a year he still felt the same.  
He still knew.  
He still believed in 30, 40, 50 years.  
And he would wait a lifetime for her to realize it.

xxxx

He halted when he turned into her office. The lights were on, her jacket hanging on the coat rack in place of her labcoat, her laptop on and silently glowing on top her desk, purse neatly tucked beside her chair.  
He was taken aback.  
He had almost been expecting the room to be empty, for the walls to be bare of art, shelves free of her books written in six different languages, two of which he had never heard of.  
He hoped that when she didn't come see him, that maybe she just hadn't come home at all.  
He was saddened when he realized that that she was here, somewhere, wandering around in a blue lab coat, hair tied neatly in a bun, working. Moving on. Unaffected.

He entered the room cautiously, feeling as if he shouldn't be there.  
It seems that she had come back, started her life again right where she left it - except without him.  
He wondered if she was planning on even working with him anymore, or if she had abandoned that as well.  
Sighing, he placed the stack of letters on the center of her desk.  
Dragging his fingers accross the smooth surface, he studied them.  
They looked intimidating, messy, and out of place in her otherwise polished and organized office.  
It appeared that he didn't fit into her life at all.

xxxxx


	3. Opening

**Part three, Opening.**

She noticed the letters the second she entered her office.  
With her face burried in a folder, she sensed that something was different before she visually saw them.  
Looking up, halted in the door way, her eyes fell instantly on the disorganized stack of envelopes.

"Booth." She half sighed, half wimpered, as if she expected him to answer her.

Sitting down, she put the folder that was seconds ago so interesting to her aside, now forgotten.  
She brushed her finger tips over the top envelope.  
There was nothing written on it, and turning it over she felt the weight of it in her hand.  
The paper was rough, dirty. She wondered how he managed to keep all the envelopes safe through so much.  
Although, thinking more clearly - he was the most protective, caring individual she knew, so she should not be surprised.

Corners were bended, and watermarks faded amongst the grain.  
She sifted quickly through the envelopes. Estimating that there were hundreds.  
Some heavy, some light. Yellowed to different degrees.  
She tugged at the corner of what appeared to be the oldest envelope.  
Sure enough, the date confirmed - it was written two days after she had left.

"Bones, "

She sighed, drawing her eyes closed. She had not heard that name in so long, and it brought with it memories and feelings she was uncomfortable with assesing.

" Bones,

I expect you are taking care of yourself just fine in that Indonesian jungle. As long as there is not too many snakes.. Haha.

It is weird not talking to you. I do not really know what to do with myself without you. After six years, not hearing your voice in a day is pretty much like being deaf. Ya ya, I know.. not literally. But I am trying to make a point here. The point is, I miss you. And I wish you were here with me. Not here, literally.. because it is dangerous and I might just have a heart attack if I have to imagine you being in a war zone. But, anyways..

things are going well with the training I am doing. I feel like I am making a difference in the world again, in a different way then how we make a difference. Cosmic balance sheet is taking a beating, but I suppose thats just part of the job.

Ive got to go, I will write you soon.

-Booth. "

She folded the letter and tucked it neatly back into the envelope, questioning certainly not for the first time in the past year, what kind of mistake she made.  
Drawing another breath, she searched for the second most yellowed, rough envelope.

My Bones,

It has been a while, but after writing the last letter I realized that I do not even have an address for you.. So wether these will eventually get to you or not, who knows. Its nice to be able to speak to you through this, even if you are not reading them. I imagine you rolling your eyes at me, correcting me.. it is more manly then writing in a diary or something. Tell the guys I'm writing to you is easier than explaining them that I am just..writing.

We lost some good men two days ago. One who I was particularly close with. He was a son, a husband. He was just telling me earlier in the week that his wife is expecting their first child in 7 months, and now... well now he is just gone. I should have done something. I should have been more protective, gotten better surveilence of the area.. something. Now a child won't ever know their father.

I am realizing things here, that I thought I could let go. Things I thought that I could surpress and forget or ignore before, and now I am not so sure.

Booth.

It wasn't until she noticed the letters in his name blurring that she realized she was crying.  
It felt foreign. The past year she had surpressed all her emotions, or tried to, and now.. everything was coming to the surface.

"Sweetie? What is it!" Angela asked, concern in her voice as she rushed to her friends side.

Bones quickly folded the letter, and stuffed it back into the envelope taht had carried it so far.  
She wiped at the tears on her face, trying to smile at her friend.

"Sweetie.. whats going on? What is all this?" Angela asked, thumbing through the remaining seeled envelopes.

Brennan could only shake her head slowly, shrugging her shoulders.

Angela nodded in response, biting the inside of her cheek, "Booth?"

The sound of his name only causing her tears to fall harder.

"Well, have you seen him?" the concerned friend asked, hugging her friend.

Brennan shook her head again, "I.. didn't want to."

xxx

Please send some feedback my way,  
~EverythingHappensEventually


	4. I Can't

_Thank you for the reviews!_

_Yes, the first two were done in a different format, because they were meant to read as a kind of continual stream of conciousness. Also, there was not much going on physically, it was all their thoughts, so I thought it was appropriate._

_~EHE_

_xxxx_

**I Can't.**

Angela listened with concern to her best friend explain her reasoning.

What she heard, was alot of excuses and fear.

"I..I couldn't. I wanted too, it was just too hard."

Angela nodded, but she didnt fully understand, "Why?"

Brennan paused. She had not told anyone what happened in front of the Hoover, or her real reasons for leaving to Indonesia. Furthermore, she didnt tell anyone that she was supposed to meet Booth yesterday evening, although she counted the days down for an entire year, silently hoping that he was safe.. and happy.

"I have to protect him, from me. He, he.. deserves someone with his kind of open heart.. I don't have that." She swallowed hard, hearing her words out loud once more throwing her back emotionally to the night at the Hoover, where she could swear her heart was screaming 'YES!' but when she opened her mouth, her mind forced her instead to say 'No.'

"What are you talking about?" Was all the artist friend could respond. Guiding her friend to the couch, handing her a tissue in the process.

Brennan sighed, "Booth, as you know has a need to share his life with someone."

"Yeah.." Angela responded slowly,

"Well, he feels like that someone, is me."

Angela tried to hide her smile, "and that is a problem?"

"Yes. I, I can't make the kinds of promises he wants me too. I cannot give him thirty, or fourty, or fifty years." She said, although the artist friend didn't understand the reference.

"But sweetie, he loves you. And honestly, you love him."

With this Brennan shook her head, standing up to get a bottle of water from her desk.

"No, he has never said that." She replied, untwisting the cap and taking a long sip.

Angela sighed, standing to become eye level with her friend, one hand placed softly on Brennan's shoulder. "Does he really have to?"

She could see Brennan's mind working, but when she didnt respond, Angela decided to leave her to think, "Sweetie, just.. try. Try and take this leap of faith. He loves you, everyone seems to know it except you. Stop trying to hide your love for him."

"I can't. Love is foolish, and irrational."

"Read his letters. He took the time to write them, and deliver them. They obviously say things that he wants you to hear."

"I can't." She responded again, "I.. I am afraid of what they will say."

Angela shrugged, and gave her friend a small smile, "Well maybe what you need is a little fear. Be irrational, be foolish. Trust in him,and in yourself."

With that, Angela left the office, giving her friend some privacy.

xxxxx

**Reviews will have me posting again today!**

** ~EHE**


	5. I Know

**"I know."**

The letters sat unopened for days. Aside from the few she had already read, they sat organized in neat piles.  
She stared at them,  
She touched them,  
but she wouldn't open them.

Angela gave her a hard time, coming into her office at least once a day to see if she had made any progress.  
She didn't.

She had spent the last twelve months attempting to forget Seely Booth, and she couldn't bare to read the private thoughts he had such a high interest in telling her.  
She didn't want to forget him, but arround him she was not herself anymore.

She wanted, for the first time in her entire life, to will herself to fall in love with him.  
She struggled, tossing in her bed at night. Wanting to promise him the thirty, fourty, or fifty years that he found so easy to say.  
She wanted to tell him she loved him, regardless of her brain screaming that it was just a chemical reaction.

This terrified her.

She just wanted to be normal. Booth deserved normal, not this rational literal scientist who was terrified of nothing except her feelings.  
She had stared down the shaft of a gun.  
She had taken abuse,  
both physical and mental.

She lived through her work,  
She hardly slept,  
she hardly ate.

She found it ironic that one person could break her whole world, as she knew it, in the best possible way.

However, she was still a scientist. She wanted Booth to be happy, but she knew that she couldnt provide the relationship that he wanted.

So, she distanced herself.  
She didn't meet him at the coffee cart.  
She didn't call, or stop by his office.  
If a case happened to be brought to her, she did everything privately from the lab - allowing Cam to deliver the information to the FBI.  
She didn't go to the diner.

It was what she needed to do for Booth.

They both needed time, time and space.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Weeks passed, and after her uncountable sleepless night, she drove to the Jeffersonian well after 1am.  
She couldn't take it anymore.  
She had to know.

She tore into the letters,  
at random.  
She cried.  
She cried for her regret,  
for her mistakes,  
for the way she was.  
For the way she wanted to be.

Most spoke of his day,  
the weather,  
the lives he had to take.

She wished that she could have been there for him.  
To help him with his 'cosmic balance sheet.'

Some said how much he missed her.  
How he still knew.

Others spoke about God,  
and his faith,  
and how it had been shaken.  
But how he knew that he would get it back.

He quoted her often.

She found warmth simply in the way each letter began, and ended.  
Some letters addressed her as Temperance,  
others Bones,  
'My Bones',  
or 'Dearest Bones.'  
He signed the letters as Seeley,  
or Booth,  
or with a simple B.

Her decision was still unwavering, however, that is until she opened the last envelope.  
She had purposely put the newest looking envelope aside.

Taking a deep breath, she opened it.  
Her own faith in science and rationality shaken when she read the simple nine words.

_ " I love you, Temperance. **Always**. I will wait, forever."_

She turned the letter over, it was blank.  
The most powerful letter of all, the shortest.  
She left it on the desk,  
grabbing only her keys and running out of the institute.

The drive over was a blur.  
She ignored stop signs,  
she raced yellow lights.

And then there she was, standing in the familiar hallway,  
in front of the most familiar door.  
She doubted everything, herself, just briefly when she rang the doorbell.

xxxxxxxxx

His sniper senses had him up and out of bed before the bell had finished its familiar ring.  
He wandered to the door,  
limping slightly,  
his body had taken a beating in Afghanistan and he was still getting over the aches and pains.

He figured it must be Hacker,  
or Cullen, with a case.  
Maybe he missed a phone call.

He was wrong.

xxxxxx

He opened the door to find her staring back at him.  
Hair drenched from the rain,  
no coat,  
**silent.**

"Bones.." he said, opening the door further.  
Still, silence.

"I waited for you." He finally said softly,  
and with that she stepped towards him,  
circling her arms arround his neck and drawing his lips to hers.

She kissed him pationately,  
and after a brief moment of shock,  
he kissed her back,  
arms wrapping arround her waist and drawing her closer towards him.

"I know" she finally said, in a half sigh, kissing him again.

He drew her inside and kicked the door shut, lips not leaving hers.

"I cant change," she continued between kisses, fingers feathering throughout his messy hair.

"I dont want you too." He replied, pushing her against the closed door,

supporting her ass as she lifted her legs to circle his waist.

"I love you" he said, his breath growing heavier and faster.

She lifted her chin as he kissed down her throat to her collar bone, and back upwards and acrross her jawline until he captured her lips again.

"I believe you." She moaned, sharing his air.

xxxxx

Please review, I am loosing motivation in this story because

I feel like no-one is reading!

Thanks!

~EHE


	6. It's a Big Day

**It's a big day**

She slept soundly, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

She was enveloped by him, their naked bodies warming each other,

his warm breath in the crook of her neck comforting and slow. Lulling her own breath to slow, relax, and slip into an even deeper sleep.

They had made love.

Starting at the front door,

to the kitchen counter,

to the living room floor,

wandering finally to the bedroom.

He had told her he loved her.

She said she believed it, and she did.

He didn't seem to mind that she didn't verbalize the sentiment back to him.

She had had sex many times before.

But, as he has promised. It was different this time.

Breaking the laws of physics, she supposed. Or the closest thing.

_"Bones?"_ _He asked softly into the crook of her neck. _

_"Mm?" She moaned, already almost half asleep._

_"I just wanted to make sure you were still here." He replied, moving even closer to her, if it was even possible, tightening his arms gently around her waist._

_"Mmm.." She sighed, interlacing their fingers against her naked stomach, "I'm not going anywhere."_

_"Promise?" He asked, giving her a slow kiss to her neck._

_"For all I can conceptualize, I am not leaving you. I will physically, to go to work. But, what I believe you are referring to is an emotional form of absence. Although I don't like to say anything with 100% accuracy, there are many variables out of my control, I can promise I will fight them to stay. Emotionally, metaphorically, that is."_

_She could feel him smile against her neck, then kiss her again, exhaling slightly, _

_"That's more then enough for me." He said, "Get some sleep.. I'll be here when you wake up."_

_She would remember those words, _

_and the trust she held in them, for the rest of her life. _

_She felt as if she could depend on someone. _

_And to her surprise, she was only a little bit terrified._

She stirred in her sleep, her biological clock waking her up early even after their late night and minimal hours of sleep.

He pulled her back down to him,

"Mmm not yet," he groaned.

"We will be late for work," she stated again, still trying to free herself from his grasp.

"Sick." Was all he responded, eyes still closed.

"I don't know what that means." She said, finally giving in and relaxing her body against him again.

She loved the feeling of laying there, with him.

In his bed, among his sheets. She was surrounded in comfort and the smell and the warmth of him.

"It means, " he said in a husky morning voice she hadn't heard before, as he rolled her over, kissing her lips softly, slowly. "It means that we are both calling in sick today."

Her brow furrowed, "I haven't taken a sick day since.. high school."

He smirked at this, "Well then today is a big day for you." Kissing her again.

**Sorry it is so short, but I didn't know quite where to go from here.**

**Send me a review with your ideas!**


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